Rewind
by Justiec
Summary: Once a popular cheerleader, now a drug-addicted loner. Elena knew that death destroyed her parents; now it seemed to target her, too. Enter Damon, a vampire in every sense. How can he save someone when he doesn't know how to save himself? [[Elena x Damon]] [Slight AU]
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

The wood at the end of the bench was decaying. It was damp and darker brown than the rest of the wood – the healthier wood. Elena Gilbert occupied the healthier wood. She sat in the middle of the bench, staring at the wooden edge that splintered in desperation. Give it a few more years; it'll fall apart.

The sky held clouds and the air was chilly. Her own mind felt cloudy. No thoughts passed through her head. Only the image of the sad, tearful end of the bench occupied her brain. She tore her eyes away from it after what felt like ages and instead settled for a black spot of gum on the sidewalk in front of her.

Where was she? The place didn't even look familiar… How had she gotten here?

The questions nudged her mind, but that was it. She didn't care to find out the answer. She just felt good, drowsy, and… well, there was a feeling rushing through her body that she couldn't quite place a finger on. Something foreign yet familiar ran through her veins along with her blood. She was pretty sure she liked it.

Time passed. She didn't know how much.

"You want another hit of this?" a male voice filled her ears. It sounded like it came from the opposite end of a long tunnel. Who was that?

She slowly turned her head to the side, away from the moldy end of the bench. Matt sat next to her. When had he sat down?

"Huh?" she mumbled, breathing in the details of his face. Everything was magnified. She could see the smallest blond stubble on his jaw line. He needed to shave, but just barely.

His expression changed from nonchalance to something else. His eyebrows did a funny thing. "Um, earth to Elena." He waved a hand in front of her face.

She leaned back from him. "What?" she asked slowly, irritated. He was the one who had materialized out of nowhere.

"Actually, I think you're on a good level." Matt drew back and brought the foil piece toward his face. He held a lighter to the bottom of the foil. The top began to darken to a rusty brown, and smoke formed. It floated up into a foil-made straw that Matt held to his mouth. He inhaled. Elena watched, her eyelids heavy.

That was right: she had just been doing the same thing moments ago. Or ages ago. This realization relaxed her. How long had she been sitting there?

Upon reaching this new, yet dangerously fickle level of awareness, the environment changed. It morphed into something else entirely. The wooden bench she occupied became a red, tacky leather couch. She was in a room; someone's living room. The walls, which once seemed white, were now a light grey. They were dirty. The carpet was stained sporadically, and other people sat around in the room as well.

Elena's heartbeat increased at the sudden, yet agonizingly slow transition. Her senses came back to her, but only slightly. She remembered now: she was high. How had she forgotten that she was high?

She looked at Matt again. He was still inhaling the smoke. Heroin; it came in all types of forms. She felt giddy and excruciatingly fatigued. But in a good way. Always in a good way.

She mumbled something incoherent to herself. Matt exhaled and some of the smoke drifted into her space and into her own lungs. She felt light-headed.

"What?" he coughed. She felt his eyes land on her.

She tore her eyes away from the dirty carpet and glanced at him. His pupils were dilated. "I forgot that we were here," she said quietly, explaining. _I thought we were outside_, she mentally added. She didn't have the energy to say it. She was pretty sure that her hallucination wasn't a normal thing, either.

He laughed. "Here? Oh, jeez. You really _are_ on a good one." This seemed to amuse him. Elena found that she couldn't understand what he way saying.

Was this normal? Her brain felt so wired that she couldn't tell. She didn't know if she had ever felt _this_ way when she'd gotten high before. Something was off; she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Mmm," she responded slowly. She started to lean back on the couch. Leaning, leaning, leaning… almost there. It took an eternity for her back to finally brush the backrest. Her head followed accordingly, and her neck muscles relaxed. She had a pleasant, sinking feeling as her body melted into the couch.

From this angle, she could see everyone else in the room. There was Tyler. This was his place, she recalled dimly. He had a buddy with him that Elena wasn't sure she recognized. They were watching the TV that Elena had also forgotten about; it sputtered gibberish. They found whatever it said funny and laughed together.

Elena closed her eyes again. Her world spun. Some other people were in the room, too. She only knew this because she could hear conversation. It sounded distant. She felt the couch shift. Someone was sitting on the other side of her now.

She cracked her eyes open and glanced to the side. She didn't have the energy to turn her head. At least she felt nice, though. She laid eyes on a denim knee. "I wouldn't sit there if I were you," she muttered quietly.

"Why?" a male voice asked. It sounded familiar, too. She was almost positive she knew the speaker.

"The wood is about to break," she explained, closing her eyes again. Let him do what he wants with the information. At least she had told him.

"Wood? Elena, you feeling alright?" the guy asked. He sounded concerned.

Elena waved her hand dismissively. Or thought she did. She realized her arm didn't feel like it had moved at all, but she could have sworn…

"Elena?" the voice cut through her thoughts again.

"Hm?" She felt so tired. Little colorful spots began to fill the black space behind her closed eyelids. She let out a small, nearly inaudible moan. What was happening to her?

"You've done some stupid things before, but this sure takes the cake."

Elena's eyes shot open. The sarcasm the dripped from the words could only be achieved by one person: Damon. And surely enough, he stood in front of her now in his classic black leather jacket. He seemed out of place in this room. In fact, what _was _he doing here?

"Damon?" she croaked. She blinked, and he disappeared entirely. Was that another hallucination?

Her eyes shut on their own accord, though she did catch a glimpse of blurred figures making their way towards her.

She heard some more voices. She thought they were directed at her, but she couldn't be sure. She did catch a "Who is she talking to?" and a distant and confused "Damon's not here..." Her world was fading. She had a dreadful, yet peaceful feeling of sand slipping through her fingers. She tried to hold onto it, but it continuously found gaps in between her fingers. The sand sprinkled over her body.

It felt nice, at first. But then the sand began to fill her lungs like dust, and she couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. Everything was numb and quiet. She opened her eyes and saw black. Then she was unsure if she had even opened her eyes at all. She felt peaceful, but real peace was in a country as far away as health.

"Fuck. Someone call an ambulance."

She did manage to catch that, though. Then she fell into non-existence.


	2. Chapter 2

_Eight months earlier. _

A vibrant smile. "Yeah, sure. I'll meet you over there at seven, okay?"

The blonde nodded eagerly in response. "Okay! See you then, Elena."

This counterpart was lively as well; but not quite as stunning as the smiling brunette. The blonde's tone dripped of pom-poms and lip gloss, while the dark-haired girl appeared genuine beyond her years.

The brunette – named Elena, apparently – held an uncanny, striking resemblance to Katherine, Damon noticed in fascination. That was what stopped him. He had been rushing off to slaughter a vampire hunter who was getting too close for comfort – it was then that he noticed the pair by their cars in the high school parking lot. He watched the pair from a distance, supernatural hearing picking up on ordinary words.

"Bye, Caroline," Elena responded animatedly before digging through her purse for keys.

Without hesitation or a plan, Damon began striding towards the girl. Why did she resemble Katherine Pierce to the point? The malicious vampire was stranded in a tomb that resided in the town. If Damon didn't already know this – and sense the undeniably human aura radiating from the girl in front of him – he would believe her to be the insensitive bitch of a vampire that caused a headache for everyone.

A sharp pain shot through his upper back, transferring quickly to his chest. He let out a grunt and looked down. A wooden spear protruded from his chest; someone had shot him from behind. Who the hell?

Damon looked up. The girl – Elena – was getting in her car now. He'd have to find her another time. With ease and a rebelling discomfort, he pulled the spear out of his chest, swearing. He spun around.

"How convenient," Damon drawled as his eyes landed upon the very hunter he was going to find. The man was standing there, legs apart in a set stance, pointing some type of gun at Damon. He appeared ready to shoot again.

The hunter was strong – but he had fear in his eyes. This alone gave Damon an opening. He hardly felt threatened, only mildly annoyed. He decided to toy with his food before devouring it.

"In a school zone. Someone's desperate," Damon taunted. He didn't make a move towards the hunter, instead throwing the wooden part that previously pierced his chest aside.

"They have a right to know about the monsters that infect this town," the hunter spat, preparing to shoot again. "No harm in anyone seeing me annihilate one."

Damon grinned. "I must say, you do have some balls coming after me now. In broad day. Alone."

Damon noticed the hunter fidget, but only slightly. The mortal eye wouldn't have caught it. "Don't think that I won't kill you just because there may be witnesses," the man asserted violently. His tone was overkill, Damon thought.

The school parking lot wasn't too busy. It was nearly five in the evening; most had left, excluding students involved in extracurricular activities.

The corners of Damon's mouth turned up. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

Without warning, Damon bolted towards the hunter. The man was terribly unprepared – what had he been thinking going after a force like Damon? Within seconds, his neck was broken and he laid on the floor, immobilized and eyes wide.

Damon heard a resounding scream. He turned his head towards the screeching noise.

A short girl with dark hair stood nearby, clutching her books to her chest and watching with horror. Damon let out an annoyed gruff. According to Stefan, they had to keep this stuff "low key."

Within the blink of an eye, Damon was in front of the petrified girl. "You witnessed this lunatic here-" he gestured towards the lifeless hunter-"shoot himself with that weapon in his hands," Damon compelled, his pupils dilated "Now go call the paramedics."

That had been one of his more creative ones, he thought with amusement. The girl ran off without question back towards the school.

For good measure, Damon took one of the wooden stakes that the hunter had dropped and pierced it through his chest. He heard a sickening _crunch_. He admired his handiwork for a moment before disappearing. After all, he needed to find out more about that doppelganger – Elena – before Stefan discovered her.

**xx**

Weeks passed. Damon was annoyed. He had been so caught up in vampire business – murder, feeding, negotiating – that he hadn't had the chance to go find the girl. He silently fumed, taking another sip of whiskey. It was dark out now. He didn't know where to find her other than school.

"Do you know what they say?" he heard a smooth female voice ask behind him. He turned his head as he remained sitting on the couch, one leg resting on the other. His eyes landed on one of the few people he simultaneously could and couldn't stand for more than a day: Rose.

She continued, striding into the living room confidently. "Only people who hate themselves or old men drink whiskey." She smiled.

"Nice to see you too, Rose." Damon brought the clear glass to his lips and took another drink. The female vampire plopped down next to him and made herself comfortable.

"You seem to be both," she observed. This amused her, as she began giggling afterwards.

Damon raised an eyebrow before standing up. He sauntered towards the bar and poured a separate glass. "Here." He held it out to her. "I'm sure you qualify for one of the above," he said dryly.

She smiled good-naturedly and took the drink. He assumed his seat next to her. "So, what brings you to the notorious Salvatore residence?"

Rose always visited to relay some important information to Damon, although her visits always extended into staying a few days. Friends with benefits, Damon believed they were called. Either way, he enjoyed her company. He couldn't say the same for many others.

"I'm just dropping in to say hi. Is that so out-of-character?" she gasped, putting a hand to her chest dramatically.

"Yeah, actually," Damon responded bluntly, taking another sip and watching her from above his glass.

She acted offended before composing herself. "I'll need to work on that. No tact," she shook her head in mock disapproval at herself, making a _tisking_ noise.

The two fell into steady conversation, though it was half-hearted on Damon's part.

"Something's on your mind," she finally pointed out gently.

He shifted uncomfortably. Rose seemed to have a knack for reading people; she read him especially well and it made him uneasy. It was an unnatural feeling – he wasn't one for closeness, flowers, and _tell me what's on your mind _conversations_._

She waited, giving him the chance to deny or indulge. The whiskey had dropped them into a new level of comfort: this alone made Damon spill his secret.

"You remember Katherine Pierce?" Damon started.

The woman facing him grimaced. "How could I forget?" she asked wryly.

"I found a doppelganger for her. Someone who looks _exactly like her_," he emphasized.

Rose sat on this for a minute. "How is that possible?"

Damon shrugged. "Don't know. I can't get her off my damn mind."

Damon noticed his words almost meshed together – was he already drunk? He looked at the clock. Surely enough, the pair had been sitting there sipping away for nearly an hour. That would do it, he mused.

Rose placed a hand on his knee. "I can get her off your mind," she said softly.

Damon looked at her. She was drunk. So was he, he noted mildly. And he could use a nice distraction.

"Not wasting any time, I see. Nor wasting any subtle suggestions." He held out his hand to her, and she took it elegantly. It was a nice fit, he thought. He didn't love this woman – he did have feelings of friendship for her – and she didn't love him. But the relationship was comfortable and useful.

The two danced up the stairs. She was all stumbles and giggles; he was all jokes and sarcasm.

Before either of them knew what was happening, they fell into a pleasant whirl of blankets and heat. One of them wouldn't be there in the morning: that was how it always went.

**xx**

Today was the day. He was going to find that girl, if only to give him peace of mind. Damon slammed the front door behind him with determination before striding down the front steps.

It had been a month. The girl had lingered in his mind for an entire _month_. He could murder an innocent and it would desert his mind a day after the incident. Yes, it was strange that he resembled his former lover – but it shouldn't have impacted him _this much_, he thought with annoyance.

He headed towards the school. It was the most logical place she would be at 10:57 on a Tuesday morning.

**xx**

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe.

She sat in a large classroom, dead in the center – a cruel joke if she ever knew one. Alaric Saltzman stood at the front of the class, scribbling down historic information on a large whiteboard. Occasionally, his marker against the board would squeak and Elena would flinch.

It was her second day back at school. The first day rushed by in a blur of worried and sympathetic looks that she tried her best to avoid. She hadn't even spoken to Caroline or Bonnie over the past few days.

After two weeks of missing school, she was drastically behind. This added to her anxiety for a moment, before slipping and evaporating from her mind completely. Her thoughts always flicked back to something more pressing and all-consuming.

Her parents were gone.

Not on vacation. Not out running errands, not a "we'll be back in a few hours, honey" type of thing.

She felt sick. They were dead.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the recurring thought. She felt trapped and needed to escape. She was plunging quickly into a breakdown and she'd be damned if she let it happen right here, right now.

Despite herself, she raised her hand. Without looking around, she felt her classmates' eyes burning into her. They wondered what she would say. It was only natural: they hadn't heard her voice in weeks. Not only that, but people were curious. How would the girl who had it all deal with something so tragic? She wondered if they could tell she was about to lose it completely; she wondered if she was providing ample entertainment. Her eyes burned.

Someone cleared their throat. "Mr. Saltzman, someone has a question."

She hated that she was a special case now. Nobody would have ever grabbed the teacher's attention for her before. Everyone coddled her now; it made her feel weak.

The teacher turned around, his eyes landing on Elena. Surprise flickered across his features before his expression returned to normal. "Question, Elena?" he asked casually, though he knew that there was nothing casual about Elena raising her hand given the situation. Everyone waited to hear what she had to say. She could feel them leaning in.

"May-" she cleared her throat when her voice came out raspy "May I go to the restroom?"

Luckily, she didn't stutter. Or burst into tears.

Alaric's features softened. "Sure."

Part of her wished he had said no. He would have said no to anyone else. Lunch would start in 30 minutes; he always said no to people who asked this close to lunchtime.

She hastily stood up and fought the urge to sprint from the class. Once in the hallway, she headed towards the school parking lot. She needed more solitude than a bathroom stall could provide.

"Elena!" someone called from behind her. The voice reverberated through the empty halls.

She halted, debating whether or not to turn around at her friend's voice, before slowly giving in. She turned and watched as Caroline trotted up to her.

"Hey," Caroline greeted breathlessly. "How are you? Where you going?" she asked curiously, her eyes taking in Elena's appearance.

"Bathroom," Elena lied, knowing Caroline would see her dishonesty. Elena wasn't walking in the bathroom's direction. Her companion didn't call her out, though. Elena was thankful for this small relief.

"Oh. Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch together today."

Elena internally cringed. She just wanted to be alone. Guilt ate at her; she knew she was treating her friends poorly. "Um…" She slowly thought of something to say. The more time that passed, the more Caroline's expression fell. She knew rejection was coming. "I need to go to the library. I have a lot of work to catch up on…" Elena explained. That was also a lie. Homework was the last thing on her mind.

Caroline's face fell completely. Elena felt a pang of guilt through her anxiety. "Oh. That's okay." Her words completely contrasted her expression. "What about-"

"I'm sorry, I'm just really busy all week," Elena blurted out hastily. She needed to get away right now; her thoughts were racing. She could barely focus. "I'll text you or something later, okay?" she spoke half-heartedly. He heart pounded in her chest. Anxiety gripped her.

She spun on her heel before Caroline had the chance to respond. She didn't miss the look of hurt that consumed the blonde's features before turning away, though. She barreled through the double doors and raced to her car. She swung open the door of her black SUV before rushing to sit inside.

Once she closed the door behind her, she closed her eyes and exhaled. Silence engulfed her along with that high-frequency noise that occurs when it is too quiet. She welcomed it.

She leaned her head back, eyes closed. She focused on her breathing – that was what the therapists told her to do. She tried to count her inhalations the way they told her to, but she quickly gave up when she found that she was too impatient to remember how to do it properly.

Her thoughts raced. She couldn't grab on to a single one.

She could recognize her feelings though. They consumed her completely. She felt like a hole had been burned into her chest; it left her gasping. A breathless pain lingered in her cells. She couldn't fight it.

She swallowed harshly, scrunching her eyes. Her head hurt. Her body hurt. _Everything_ hurt, and she felt unbearably dizzy.

How could she continue to exist like this? The most important people in her life were gone. Well, besides Jeremy. And watching the pain he was going through doubled the anguish of the entire situation.

There was a knock on her window. She had never heard anything so invasive in her life.

Her eyes opened and she glanced to the left, expecting to find Caroline. Instead, she locked eyes with unfamiliar, steely blue orbs.

**A/N: Hello, readers. Thank you for the support following the first chapter – I really put my heart and soul into that particular piece. It hit me out of nowhere when I was at school one day. **

**As a fun little bit, I was writing this chapter at the university library and the effing fire alarm went off. Everyone had to evacuate the building, and now I'm outside sitting in the grass finishing this up for your guys' sake :) Hope you guys enjoyed. Please review! **


	3. Chapter 3

Elena peered at the unfamiliar man; he stared back evenly. She shivered – she felt like he was peering into her soul. He was good-looking, she noted. Perhaps on a better day – or in a better year – she may have been slightly interested.

At the current moment, she was too distracted by the remaining tension in her stomach and shaky inhalations to make notes on attraction. Shoving away the emotional noise inside her head from the onset of the near-breakdown a few minutes earlier, she rolled down her window.

She cleared her throat and shifted her chin up. "Do you need something?" She tried to keep her voice steady. Lately, the small task was a struggle.

The man smirked slightly, as if he was laughing at an inside joke; as if her question had a double meaning. Elena found herself growing wary and quietly annoyed.

"Yes, I do," he responded clearly. She noticed that confidence radiated from him and concluded that charisma was his forte. He leaned in towards Elena. She held steady, fighting off the urge to retreat further back into her seat.

His gaze made her feel as if he was about to say something extremely important. She braced herself, feeling centuries pass.

Finally, he asked casually, "Are visitors allowed to park here?" and gestured towards an area of the parking lot.

Elena immediately deflated, realizing that her muscles had tensed in anticipation. She stared at him, her mouth parted slightly. She tried to hide the confusion on her face – after all, she had no reason to appear baffled. "V-visitors?" she sputtered. She mentally cringed as she heard herself speak. His question was normal. She didn't know why she was reacting so strangely.

He answered before she could redeem herself. "I don't go to this school—" he gestured towards himself "—and I'm wondering if I'll get a ticket for parking over there," he clarified.

She met his amused stare evenly, letting her hair fall over her face to hide her reddening cheeks. The cool and smooth Elena that could flourish in any social situation remained in the water under Wickery Bridge. Along with the sunken car the city had yet to pull out…

"Hey, are you okay?" the stranger asked, leaning down slightly to get her attention.

Elena snapped out of her dismal thoughts. "Yeah… and yes, you're allowed to park there," she finally breathed out, turning and facing her steering wheel. '_But you already knew that,' _she mentally added before she could stop herself – then she wondered where the thought and feeling came from. It _did_ feel as if the man didn't really need her help.

She exhaled deeply, watching as small strands of her dark hair moved with her breath, and tried reeling herself back into the present.

She never felt like she was truly there. Her mind, in any situation, was always wondering these days. People sensed this. Her friends, her aunt, and her boyfriend were giving her time to recover – she wondered how long that would last. As of now, she couldn't see herself ever shaking out of this depression. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced: it was all-consuming.

Realizing that she was fading off again, she peered back at the man. His expression changed, and he met her gaze with charm. He flashed a mesmerizing smile.

"Thanks." His tone was musical and pleasant.

Elena found her breath caught in her throat, as if a cool stream of water was flowing over her at the sound of his voice. She narrowed her eyes away from him again, mystified. Maybe he wasn't bad. Elena suddenly felt foolish for feeling unnaturally cautious of the stranger. She thought _he_ seemed off, but it was probably her who was backwards. It was always her these days. Her intuition had been flipped upside-down after the accident.

She turned back to him. "You're—"

Her eyes met air. He was gone. Elena poked her head out the window slightly, trying to search the parking lot. He had disappeared entirely.

Elena fell back into her seat and rubbed her temples harshly – she was going insane. At the very least, the encounter distracted her from the panic attack that had been previously approaching. She took a deep breath and began heading back to Mr. Saltzman's class, abandoning her plan to ditch the entire school day.

One step at a time, she told herself. Even if they were baby steps, small and slow, with the occasional stumble backwards.

**xx**

Damon watched from a distance as the girl poked her head out the window and searched for him. He leaned casually against a car on the other end of the parking lot, silently observing.

She seemed… _different_ from the last time he had seen her. Last time, she had been cheerful and bubbly and there was a light in her eyes; this time, her eyes were downcast and her body language dejected. It wasn't a mood swing. Her entire aura had changed to one much more hopeless.

It bothered him, Damon realized: the change bothered him. He stopped to ponder this – he hardly ever felt regard for human emotion. Annoyed, he shook off the small feeling and moved onto more important things. The encounter had given him the information he needed for now; the girl was in no shape, way, or form Katherine.

Damon had to assure that it wasn't a possibility – that Elena was not Katherine disguised as a high school student. Clearly, that idea was unlikely. But then, the chances of finding a doppelganger of his former lover were just as implausible; he had to consider both possibilities, and now he had cut out one option.

Damon would be lying if he claimed that feelings for Katherine didn't linger within him. He still wanted to get the said female vampire out of the damn tomb. He felt obligated to. However, that didn't seem like a possibility at the moment. He needed a witch; more specifically, a Bennett. He was only in town now in hopes of finding a descendent of Emily Bennett, and so far he had come across something just as interesting: a doppelganger.

Damon crossed his arms. He wondered what Stefan would think upon finding Elena. He wanted to keep the discovery his own little secret – he'd use all the leverage over his little brother he could get.

With a satisfied smirk, Damon turned around to leave—

Only to face Stefan standing there with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Annoyance was instantaneous.

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked in a snarky tone, eying his brother.

His brother stared back in accusation. "I could ask you the same question," he answered evenly.

With supernatural hearing, Damon heard a car door slam. Both brothers turned to see Elena leaving her vehicle in the distance.

A moment of silence passed in the air as both realized that the other knew of Elena – that they had somehow discovered her separately. Damon turned to watch Stefan's reaction towards the look-alike. Stefan's features remained the same, as if he were unsurprised. His eyes met Damon's.

"So you've found her, too."

The two voices overlapped; Damon and Stefan spoke the same words simultaneously. Both of their voices held wariness and distrust.

After an irritating moment, Damon laughed. The sound spread out over the duo and added more tension to the conversation.

"You enrolling in school, little brother? Graduating the first twenty times wasn't enough for you?" Damon asked with devilish amusement. He quickly pushed away his frustration towards the fact that his brother had found the doppelganger, too.

So Stefan knew. Whatever, he thought.

Stefan shifted his shoulder and backpack, becoming more serious. "Stay away from Elena, Damon."

Damon smirked. "Oh, so you've caught her name. How much stalking did that entail?" The words danced out of his mouth, taunting and light-hearted.

Stefan eyed him. "What are you doing in Mystic Falls?" he asked in accusation, ignoring Damon's goad.

"Just thought I'd stop by and pay good ol' 'Uncle' Zach a visit," Damon briefed, rolling his shoulders back. "Didn't know I'd find you here. Or her…" he muttered, referring to Elena.

"Cut the crap, Damon. You haven't been here in years. What could you possibly want now?" Stefan demanded, piercing his eyes into Damon's.

'_To get Katherine out of the tomb, idiot,' _Damon thought – not that he would let Stefan know. His brother would only impede his plans, or try to. It was difficult for Stefan to do much of anything when he only drank rabbit blood, Damon noted with disdain.

The school bell rang, breaking the brothers' stare-down. Damon's posture immediately changed as he smirked and patted his brother's arm roughly. "It was nice seeing you, brother. Have a good day at school." His tone was purposefully corny.

And like that, Damon flashed out of the parking lot.

**xx**

The rest of the day passed without event for Elena. The next one passed in the same manner. They usually blurred together this way.

At the end of the next school day, she found herself shoving books that she was supposed to take home for homework in her locker. She knew she wouldn't do homework; carrying the books just added extra burden.

"Hey, you doing okay? I was worried when you left class yesterday and haven't had the chance to talk to you."

She closed her locker, turning to face Matt Donovan. They were still a couple, despite the fact that tragedy had fallen, dead-center, into Elena's life. She knew it seeped into his, too, and wondered why he stayed with her. She wasn't the same.

She forced an airy smile and waved off his concern. "I'm fine. I just left something in my car and went to get it," she lied.

He observed her skeptically. Like Caroline, he didn't call out her lie. "Well, you had me worried," he concluded genuinely, leaning in and placing a brief kiss on her lips.

"Sorry," she said, pushing hair back behind her ear.

"Don't be. Here, I got you this." Matt pulled something out of his pocket. It was a silver necklace with an artistic capsule encased in silver. It was strange-looking, but decently pretty.

Elena tried to hide her surprise. Matt was a sweet boy, he really was, but knick-knack gifts weren't really his thing. She appreciated the gesture. "Thanks, Matt. It's cute."

Matt clasped it onto her neck for her. "You're welcome," he finished casually, and the two began walking towards the school's exit. "Hey, so I have an interview at the Grill, and was wondering if you wanted to come. It should only take about twenty minutes, I'm pretty sure I already have the job. We can do something fun after," he suggested, facing her as they walked.

Silence followed. Elena fidgeted with her new necklace – she didn't want to go. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed, maybe will herself to write in the diary she abandoned after the accident, and then fall asleep. She didn't want to be out in public, where people watched her more closely now.

People could relate to her sadness, but they couldn't relate to the severity of it. She knew this. She also knew that it made her different. In a sense, she had become an outsider.

She turned and looked at Matt, intending to deny the suggestion.

It was a big mistake. His eyes held hope, and she didn't want to let him down. "Okay," she choked out the opposite of what she meant to say. She bit her lip. "Actually—"

"Great. We can take my car," he suggested, smiling.

Elena forced a smile back. "Sounds good…"

They soon reached the parking lot, and once they were sitting in Matt's car, he took out a small bag with green buds in it. He took out a lighter and began piecing parts together.

"You're going to get high before an interview?" Elena asked incredulously. She didn't care that Matt smoked weed and she didn't; but this was a little extreme.

Matt shrugged. "It'll be fine," was all he said. He started the car and began driving, taking hits as they drove to the Grill.

"Whatever you say…" Elena mumbled doubtfully, staring out the window.

Matt tried to make conversation the entire way to the restaurant, and Elena would respond accordingly with "Oh, that's cool," or "Really?" when she felt prompted to. In truth, she didn't catch half of what he was saying. She just wasn't interested the way she used to be. She tried though; she really did.

When they entered the Grill, Matt left her at a table. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He flashed a quick smile and went to leave before stopping abruptly. "Wait. Are my eyes red?" he asked, staring at Elena.

She peered up at him. "No, they're fine."

He nodded. "Okay. I'll be back soon."

Elena watched as he walked up to whom she assumed to be the manager of the place. The two shook hands and Matt smiled charismatically. He was right; he had this interview in the bag, Elena thought.

After a few minutes, Elena began doodling on a napkin. She tried not to think about anything dreary. Instead, she found that her thoughts automatically defaulted to thinking of the stranger she had met earlier. There was something… different about him.

An hour passed. Elena wasn't annoyed, but she was bored and would rather be home.

"So we meet again."

A familiar, suave voice filled Elena's ears. She looked up and laid eyes on the very stranger she had just been dwelling over. He stood before her in the same dark jacket he wore yesterday, carrying a drink in his hand.

Damon smirked. He hadn't been seeking out the doppelganger, but now that she was placed flat in front of him, he might as well have some fun.

"Hey," Elena responded quietly, taking him in. She shifted in her seat as she felt him watching her. There it was again – that feeling that something was _off_ with him.

Without invitation, Damon made himself comfortable at the table with her. He took another sip of hard liquor, watching her over the rim of his glass.

Neither of them said anything. Finally, he broke the silence. "You know, I have a good sense about people. And I can tell that something's bothering you," he said smoothly, feigning friendliness. Part of him wanted to find out more about her. He told himself that any information he could pick up around this town could help, no matter where it came from.

He sensed another change in her posture. He noticed that her former wariness sunk a level deeper. She looked defensive and uncomfortable. He responded before she had the chance to, throwing his hands up as a way to release the conversation's new tension. "But hey, we all have our problems," he lamented light-hearted, giving her an out.

Elena exhaled, nodding slightly. "Right…" she mumbled. She realized that she had yet to give more than a one-word response and suddenly felt childish. She forced herself into conversation. "Are you new to town or something?"

The dark-haired stranger smiled, as if laughing at an inside joke again. "You could say that."

Elena waited for him to elaborate more. Instead, he leaned towards her. "I don't think I caught your name before," he said easily.

"It's Elena…" She leaned away from him, intimidated. "And your name?"

He extended his hand confidently in formal introduction. "Damon. Damon Salvatore."

She shook his hand, feeling an electric spark pass between them. She shook off the sensation and focused on forcing herself to converse.

In a small way, it was nice to talk to someone who didn't know her life story. She was sick of interacting with people who treated her as the girl who lost her parents recently. Everyone tip-toed around her; he didn't.

She liked and disliked that at the same time.

She eyed him. "As in the founding family? Salvatore…" She tasted the word on her lips. "Sounds familiar."

"Oh, you're familiar with the founding families?" Damon asked. "Not many are…"

She noticed that he avoided her question, but left no casual way for her to ask again. He was a master at conversation, and she felt like he was dominating their interactions – he had control. A few moments of silence passed again. This time, she was the one to break it. "Actually, I'm a descendent of the Gilberts. They were founders."

Damon smirked as he recalled Jonathan Gilbert; the man hated vampires. And yet, here he was, talking to his descendent.

"What's so funny?" Elena blurted before she could stop herself. The words came out more accusatory than she intended for them to be.

Damon looked at her, mildly surprised and amused. He took his time answering as he took another drink, completely unfazed. "Nothing. I guess you could just say I have a knack for this town's history," he mused.

Elena watched him with suspicion. Maybe her intuition was right: maybe there really was something up with this guy. He didn't _look_ like he belonged in a bland town like Mystic Falls. He was unnaturally good-looking, smooth, and modern. Everyone around here was ordinary. He stood out like a sore thumb.

Damon continued, attempting to bring their conversation back to a lighter level. "Say, do you know if there was a founding family with the last name Bennett?" He began to focus again on his goal: finding a Bennett descendent. He already knew the answer to his question. The Bennetts were not part of the founders, but maybe he could get some type of information.

"The Bennetts weren't founders. I think they've just lived in this town for a long time," Elena answered after a moment. She stared at him with distrust. Why would he ask that specific question?

Damon became drastically more interested. Elena knew of Bennetts; that meant they were still around. He tried to remain laid-back. "Oh? Do you know any personally?"

Elena made no attempt to hide her suspicion this time. "Why do you want to know?" she asked in accusation, crossing her arms. Maybe if she wasn't so close to Bonnie, she wouldn't have considered the question abnormal. But her protective instinct kicked in, and the two plunged into a more serious level of conversation.

Damon frowned. Was he that transparent or was this girl paranoid? Elena had reason to be, he guessed. Damon found himself annoyed, but he couldn't tell if it was with the girl or himself.

When he first sat down with her, he had intended to engage in casual conversation. After all, she _was_ a beautiful girl. Not Katherine – Elena was good-natured, that much he could tell – but equally stunning in her own way. He wanted to toy with her, humor her.

Now, he knew that she had answers he needed. He wrapped up his games and became serious. He would use a different method.

"Tell me what you know about the Bennetts," he compelled, his eyes dilating as he stared intently at her.

She stared back at him, her face blank and mouth parted slightly. Damon smirked, waiting for her to obey; compulsion never failed him.

Until now.

"Screw you," Elena retorted, gathering her stuff. She felt alive for the first time in weeks through her anger. She may be stuck in a realm of unbearable sadness, but she refused to let anyone order her around.

Damon gaped, watching her as she strode out of the Grill. He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. How had she resisted his compulsion?

He stared at his hands, deep in thought. Stefan – it had to be Stefan. He probably slipped the girl vervain somehow, knowing that Damon was around. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He'd definitely pay his brother a nice visit soon.

Damon stood up, adjusting his jacket. Not only had he failed to get vital answers, but Elena Gilbert had burned him. His lips slowly formed into a smirk. So maybe she did have some bite, after all – all the more for him to play with.

**A/N: Not gonna lie, this chapter was hard to pull out of my brain. Review! I love hearing from readers, old and new. Well, most of them are new because I just started posting stories on FF about a month ago. So hi guys. **


	4. Chapter 4

"I gotta say, Stefan. That took me by surprise."

Damon sauntered into the living room like a lion stalking its prey. Stefan whipped around at the sound of his brother's unsettlingly carefree voice.

He was immediately on guard. "What are you talking about, Damon?"

Damon plopped down on the couch and let his arms rest behind his head. He rolled his eyes. "Like you don't know; giving Elena vervain. It was annoying, actually," he stated matter-of-factly and began observing one of his hands.

Stefan narrowed his eyes and Damon continued. "So how'd you do it?" he taunted. "Slip some in her water? That'd be a shame – she looks absolutely delicious, wouldn't you agree?"

Stefan tensed. "What do you want with Elena, Damon?"

Damon leaned forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and intertwining his hands. "I'd ask you the same thing, but I already figured it out. You want to relive your doomed romance with Katherine," Damon droned dramatically, putting a hand over his heart. "With a nicer look-alike. Don't you think it's time to move on, brother?"

"Elena is nothing like Katherine," Stefan bit out resentfully. "It's _you_ who needs to move on, Damon."

Damon snickered. "Oh, I've moved on Stefan." It was true, too. Although Damon sometimes felt pangs of emotion when he thought about Katherine, they were the normal feelings one has when a touchy memory comes to mind. He only wanted to get her out of the tomb now out of obligation. He was no longer in love with her, but he couldn't let her rot in there. He didn't _hate _her. That, and he had nothing else to pursue at the moment in his eternity of existence.

Damon continued. "I just think it would be fun to play around a little with Elena. I mean, she's practically a _human_ version of Katherine," Damon said animatedly. "An anomaly... Imagine what her blood would taste like."

Suddenly, Stefan came at him, fangs bared. Damon effortlessly flipped them so that he had his brother pinned up against a wall. His fingers pressed into the younger Salvatore's neck.

"You forget, brother," Damon tisked. "I'm stronger than you—or maybe you didn't forget and you're just that stupid." Stefan sputtered as Damon pressed against him, his eyes red. Damon continued with ease. "So how'd you do it? I'm still curious. How'd you manage to give Elena vervain? You don't even know her."

When Stefan refused to answer, Damon pressed harder into him. "Don't test me, Stefan."

Stefan coughed as he tried to speak. "I—I compelled her boyfriend to give her a necklace with it," he gasped, clutching at Damon's fingers.

"Hm," Damon started light-heartedly. "Clever. And stalker-ish. I like it." He released the other vampire, who fell to the floor. Damon shrugged. "Well, that's all I wanted to know. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around soon. I mean, we practically _live_ together again."

Damon watched Stefan flinch upon hearing this and smiled. "See you around, Stefan."

He departed, leaving his brother on the wooden floor of the room.

**xx**

Her phone beeped. Once. Twice.

Elena peered down at the caller ID: Love of my life, it read, with a heart attached at the end.

Elena cringed every time she read it; it was Matt. Months ago, Caroline had changed his title in her phone to its current sickeningly sweet state. Apparently, she was heavily supportive of them as a couple and couldn't contain herself. Even more uncomfortable, Elena and Matt had never spoken the damning words _I love you_, and had yet to murmur them.

"Hey," Elena answered on the third ring.

"Hey," she heard Matt's voice. "Where'd you go? Sorry that took so long – the guy just wouldn't stop talking."

"I'm in your car. I got bored sitting in there."

"Well, I'm coming. See you in a minute."

Elena heard a beep and closed her own phone. As she waited for Matt, her thoughts wandered to Damon. After this last encounter, he was truly plaguing her mind. She didn't know what to make of him. Something about him was unnatural—alluring, yet at the same time, frightening. Self-protection—and in other cases, annoyance—trumped her curiosity towards the man. She had other things on her mind, anyways.

She jumped when the car door opened. It was Matt. She let out a breath and smiled at him. "How'd it go?"

"Great—he hired me on the spot," Matt informed proudly, a smile gracing his features.

"That's great, Matt." Elena tried to force enthusiasm into her tone.

He leaned in and kissed her. "I know. Hey, do you want to go grab something to eat? And Jake is having a kickback later tonight, his parents are out of town for the week."

"On a Tuesday?" Elena asked as Matt started the car. She bit her lip; it had already felt like an over-exertion to accompany Matt here. Hanging out with him all day—once a normal thing—now seemed equivalent to running a marathon. And she was wildly unprepared.

"Yeah. Senior year, this is how we do. It's time to live it up," he exclaimed animatedly. "Between now and college, this is the only time we have to have fun."

We have weekends, Elena thought. And summer. "I think I'm just going to head home. I told Jenna I'd cook dinner tonight," Elena coughed halfway through her lie, "She's been taking this pretty hard," she struggled to say casually. She didn't want to address the elephant in the room – her parents' absence – but it was sometimes harder not to.

That, and it was the easiest way to get out of things. And yet ironically, their death _was_ the ultimate reason for her dodging situations and people.

"Oh—yeah, I understand." Matt's words were genuine, but his face had fallen.

A few seconds of guilty silence passed. "I'm sorry, Matt," Elena said quietly and evenly as she stared out the window. The two plunged into a more serious level of conversation; they both knew she was apologizing for more than leaving him today.

She felt Matt look at her, and then he clasped her hand. "It's okay, Elena—you know that."

Her throat constricted, and though her affection towards Matt resurfaced in that moment, her frustration with herself increased. They drove in comfortable and forgiving silence the rest of the way to her house.

**xx**

Two weeks passed without event. The new kid in school – Stefan – had worked his way into her group of friends. Elena thought he was a nice guy. Good-looking too, and for reasons she couldn't explain, he reminded her of the dark-haired stranger that lingered in the back of her mind: Damon.

Elena thought of this has she watched the football team practice. He was good. He even outshined Matt, the school's star quarterback.

"Elena!"

Elena whipped her head towards Caroline's voice. "Yeah?"

"Did you hear me? I said we begin on the count of eight this time." Caroline's voice was as frustrated as her too-tight skirt.

Elena cleared her throat and forced herself to re-focus—a task that seemed impossible these days. She readjusted her feet. "Sorry."

It was her second day back to cheer practice and her heart wasn't in it. It sometimes felt as if she didn't have a heart these days, so how could she wholly commit to anything? She wondered if she would ever get that spark back.

After a few more practice routines—ones that winded Elena drastically more than they should have—the cheerleading coach called Elena to the side.

She half-jogged, half-walked up to Jessica, a graduate from their school who had cheered in college and insisted that the team call her by her first name. She was approaching her thirties now and even had small children.

"Elena, can I talk to you for a minute? It would be easier if we went to my office, as well."

Within ten minutes, Elena discovered that she was flunking half of her classes and barely passing the rest. And to participate in extracurricular activities, according to Jessica and school policy, one was not allowed to do "so poorly." Elena felt like she was suffocating in the small office.

"Now, Elena…" Jessica's face softened as she started, and Elena prepared to sit through another uncomfortable sympathy speech. "I know that you recently lost some loved ones, and I'm very sorry for that. I want you to know that I'm here for you if you ever need to talk, okay? I know it's been a month, but I understand what you're going through must be difficult. I'll also try to talk to the athletic director about extending the time you have to raise your grades."

Elena blanched—it had been a month since her parents died? That was the only thing she heard Jessica say. She hadn't even realized… It felt as if it happened a week ago. With the realization that time was leaving her behind, anxiety filled her stomach. She wasn't moving on—she was stuck. Time couldn't heal this one.

"Elena?"

Jessica's voice shook her from her thoughts and Elena put on the blank mask again. "Yeah, that'd be helpful. Thank you, Jessica."

Her voice was detached—she appreciated Jessica's words, but she couldn't address the subject so openly.

Angst settled in—it'd been a _month_—and she couldn't shake it. When Jessica told her she was free to go, Elena didn't return to cheer practice. Instead, she went to the locker room, changed into her normal clothes, and started to go home early.

She had left her car home today and instead walked to school. She had been doing that lately. She would wake up at five in the morning after a restless night of sleep, and with too much time on her hands, she would get ready slowly and leave before Jenna or Jeremy woke up.

Now, though, the sky was dark and cloudy, and a quarter through her walk home, water began to lightly sprinkle her face. Then, drops began to fall at a steady rhythm, unforgiving as they seeped through her jacket and into her hair. She clutched her books closer to her chest.

"Need a ride?"

A smooth voice to her left interrupted her thoughts. A beautiful black Mustang followed slowly by her side, with Damon in the driver's seat.

Elena tried to be snarky and off-standish. "No, thanks." She barely looked at him and forged ahead.

"How long do you have to go? Five, ten minutes?" she heard him ask, and she tried to ignore him.

However, she had about forty minutes left before she'd arrive home. The number pulsed in her mind several times and she wondered if he had planted the thought on purpose. She took in an icy breath.

"You know those seat warmers the warm your butt? Well, I have the ones that warm your back, too."

If she was the old Elena, she would have laughed at the way he said it. She continued to ignore him.

"Alright, suit yourself," he dismissed, completely unaffected. He seemed like he was about to leave before he mentioned, "Oh, by the way. The sidewalk around the corner up there is blocked off."

It was another time-bomb, because it made Elena think. If the sidewalk was closed, her walk would be longer—she'd have to walk around the entire block to get back on track. After fighting the urge to acknowledge his words for a few seconds, she finally gave in.

"No, it's not. I just came from that way this morning."

She watched him shrug, a smug look on his face. "Have a nice walk."

He sped off, and Elena watched as his car zoomed with ease around the corner.

When Elena herself turned the same corner, an "Open Trench" and "Closed—Take Detour" sign greeted her. A clap of thunder followed. The gods had to be laughing at her. She nearly cursed, feeling foolish, and looked around to see if Damon was waiting to laugh at her, too. The black Mustang was nowhere in sight.

**A/N: Sorry for the late update, but I'm just so happy I got something up. It's crazy—you don't write for a few weeks and you totally fall out of touch with your story. Anyways, I'll probably be updating again within the next two weeks. I'm digging where this story is going. **


	5. Chapter 5

"So… what do you say?"

The words held a combination of hope, excitement, and wariness. Caroline Forbes stared at the slightly shorter girl with wide blue eyes, the intensity almost excessive given the situation. She was practically begging Elena to come to a party in the woods.

"I don't know, Caroline," Elena sighed out, fixing some of her make up in the bathroom mirror.

"Elena, you haven't been out in _forever_. Remember when you used to throw parties? Now, you don't even go to them! You can leave if you're not having fun," the blonde rushed to get out, "in fact, I'll be designated driver. You deserve a night of fun."

The pair left the bathroom and entered the school hallway. Elena bit her lip. "Caroline, I just have a lot to do. With school and all… I have a lot of catching up to do still. They'll kick me off cheer, remember?"

Elena cringed as she heard herself speak the words. Once captain, Elena was now one of the weakest links on the team and on the verge of suspension. To her, it was solid evidence that she was a lesser version of who she once was.

"Elena—_come on._ First of all, we never hang out anymore. Second, you use that excuse _every time_. Third, you don't need to study on a Friday!" Caroline made wild gestures with her hands on the last one, turning towards Elena.

"Elena, studying on a Friday?" a male voice on the other side of her spoke. "Times have changed."

Elena turned towards Tyler, who was looking at the two girls with amusement. She grimaced—another person who she had to fight off with excuses.

"Right?" Caroline agreed, nodding viciously. "Elena—just for a _little bit_."

"Guys…" she tried, but her resolve was wavering.

"It'll be like Elena Gilbert, reinvented," Tyler said dramatically, motioning with his hands in front of him as if he were coming up with an idea for an Oscar-winning motion picture.

Elena flinched, and she felt Caroline's eyes on her, watching her reaction to his words. Tyler was teetering on dangerous territory.

"I'll tell Jessica that we should put you in the back line for cheer," Caroline bribed quickly, ignoring Tyler.

The offer was tempting. Elena was still a front-row cheerleader—something that she despised now that she wasn't great at the activity—but Jessica and Caroline, who was now captain, insisted that she was still better than half the team. Elena had requested to be put in the back a few times, and every time she had been denied.

"Alright, fine," she sighed out in defeat. "But only—"

"Great!" Caroline cried, doing a small victory jump and clapping her hands. "I'll pick you up at eight."

In a blur of yellow, the girl rushed off, likely before Elena had the chance to change her mind or alter their agreement.

"Glad you're coming—it'd be nice to see you out and about more often," Tyler mentioned.

The two had known each other since elementary school, and although they weren't close friends, at one point they saw each other around often. Tyler and Matt hung out, and at one point months ago it had often been Tyler, Matt, and Elena occasionally together. As of recent, she hardly ever saw the dark-haired boy; or rather, he hardly ever saw her.

"Yeah, I'm glad too," Elena lied, offering a small smile.

"Hey, want to smoke with Matt and I after school? I just picked up some awesome bud," he described.

Elena shook her head. "No, it's fine."

"You still don't smoke?" he asked, sounding slightly surprised.

Elena shook her head again, watching him quizzically. "Why would I?"

"Well, I figured since Jeremy—" Tyler abruptly cut off as Elena face changed. "Um—"

Elena stopped walking and turned towards him. "Since Jeremy what?" she demanded.

"Aw, shit—" Tyler scratched the back of his head uncomfortably "—I thought you knew."

Elena grew impatient. "Knew what, Tyler?" she exasperated, already predicting the answer.

"I mean, the kid's practically always high," Tyler said, half to himself.

"Jeremy?" Elena asked in disbelief.

Tyler took a step back, as if trying to avoid a "shoot the messenger" situation. "Thought you knew, Elena. Sorry. I'll see you tonight, yeah?"

He turned to leave. "Yeah, see you…" Elena muttered, standing in the hallway with her eyes narrowed as students passed by her.

How had she not noticed? She _lived_ with Jeremy, for God's sake. Was she really that distant from him? Guilt filled her; she knew the answer.

She didn't know whether to be angry with him or herself. Part of her wanted to not care at all and act as if she never heard the information—but that would plunge her further into remorse for being so distant from him.

"Hey—everything okay?"

She snapped out of her thoughts, turning to face Stefan Salvatore. She felt a small blush creep onto her face—she had just been standing there, staring at the floor, in the middle of everyone walking to class. She must look as if she were losing her mind.

"Yeah. I was just, um, thinking," she explained lamely, feeling more stupid as she heard herself say the words.

He smiled in understanding. "Long day?"

He was giving her a way out, and she smiled back gratefully. "Yeah," she breathed, shifting her bag over her shoulder.

"We all have them. Well, I'll see you around Elena."

She watched his back as he left. Realizing that she was zoning out again, she forced herself to go to class.

**xx**

Elena turned the mascara applicator on her eyelash, jumping and nearly smudging it when her bedroom door flung open.

She whipped around. "How'd you get in?" she asked incredulously.

"Jenna," Caroline grinned, plopping down on the bed. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready…" Elena finished up her make-up and grabbed her purse. She slowly stood up.

"Jeez, Elena. Brighten up. It's a party, not a funeral."

The two made eye contact. Caroline realized her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth, and guilt and shock filled her features as her mouth remained open in an "o."

"God, Elena. I'm sorry, I wasn't even thinking," she apologized, closing her eyes in genuine regret.

"It's okay," Elena brushed it off, trying to ease the uncomfortable situation. "Let's go have some fun." She forced a smile for Caroline's sake.

Once in the car, Caroline thrust a bottle of vodka towards Elena. "Here. Pre-game." She grinned excitedly.

Elena took the bottle cautiously. "I don't think it's a good idea, Caroline," she informed as her friend started to back out of the driveway.

"It's always a good idea." Caroline winked playfully at Elena. "Besides, you deserve a night of fun. I think tonight could actually be really good for you," she said caringly.

Elena thought. She hadn't drank since before her parents died, which was now a month and a half ago. She just hadn't had the opportunity or urge to do it, though she used to do it every other weekend.

"Elena. You're over-thinking," Caroline pulled her friend from her thoughts. "Just take a shot and see what happens. Just one shot."

Elena felt the excuses building up in her head again, and she mentally watched them float by, one by one, as she tried to decide which one to use this time. A dull pain pulsed in her head—she suddenly felt exhausted of evading everything and everyone. After one more second of doubt, Elena did something that felt a little reckless, a little uncalculated, and a little liberating. She took a long, un-chased swig from the bottle.

"Yeah!" Caroline cheered in excitement. "I can't believe you did it—I was giving you the bottle to put down on the floor and then thought I'd give a try at convincing you." She laughed. "Who knew it would work!"

Elena made a face at the strong taste in her mouth, unaccustomed to drinking after so long. She couldn't help but smile at Caroline's words, feeling a degree of normalcy return and for a second her parents weren't dead.

"That's all I'm taking," Elena shook her head with a reluctant smile. "You're bad, you know that?"

"I know." Caroline grinned mischievously. "And you love me for it."

Soon, they pulled up to the bonfire in the woods and joined in on the easy chaos. People were already drinking around the fire, and others were scattered further in the woods talking and laughing.

"Elena?" Matt approached the pair, confusion heavy on his features. "What are you doing here?"

She hadn't told him that she was coming, and she didn't blame him for his confusion. He asked her, nearly every weekend, if she wanted to accompany him to a party and she always turned him down. Her presence here was startling: she knew that.

Elena shrugged. "Caroline managed to talk me into coming. Or blackmailed me, whatever you want to call it."

Caroline let out a sound of disbelief next to her and Elena smiled. "We made a _deal_, Elena! That's the proper name for it," she said in exasperation, nudging her friend playfully.

"Well, however you did it, I'm impressed. I can't get this girl anywhere." Matt leaned in and kissed Elena before pulling back and cocking his head. "You're drinking, too?"

Elena felt her lips; he must have tasted it on her. "I took a shot."

Matt turned to Caroline again. "You're a miracle worker."

Caroline jokingly shrugged and made a face, as if everything came easily. "You owe me one, I know."

Matt laughed. "Get outta here. You guys want a beer?"

"I'm driving—but Elena wants one."

Elena turned to her friend, eying her. "Caroline…"

"Elena, you're already out. You might as well let loose," Caroline suggested.

"I'd try to convince her, too, but you seem to have the magic touch…" Matt joked.

Elena put her hands up defensively. "You guys are relentless. I'll take a beer."

And with that, the night kicked off. Elena felt eyes on her, but she didn't resent them. She knew that she had been lying low for a while now, and people were curious and surprised towards her appearance. She didn't blame them and didn't mind the stares like she normally did. The alcohol helped with that, too.

Matt and Elena were standing near a tall oak an hour later when a voice cut out to them.

"Damn, I can't believe my eyes." Tyler approached, a flask in his hands.

Elena rolled her eyes. "I'm out of the house, I get it, I get it." She almost laughed—she was decently buzzed and it felt nice.

"Not that—you're drinking. I like it." He turned to Matt. "What's up, man," he greeted, and the two did a casual handshake.

"It's a sight for sore eyes, I know," Matt agreed with Tyler's observation, putting an arm around Elena and kissing her hair. She leaned into him.

Tyler held out his flask towards the pair. "Want to try? It's not so bad."

Elena knew she had to be pretty buzzed when she took the flask without objection or thought. "What is it?" she asked as she untwisted the cap.

"Try it," Tyler suggested.

Elena took an easy swig that turned harsh after she swallowed. She sputtered, handing the flask back to him. Tyler laughed.

"What is it, man?" Matt asked, rubbing Elena's back.

"Fifty proof whiskey. It's pretty harsh," he admitted, amusement still sparkling in his eyes at Elena's reaction.

"Jerk," she bit out, moving her tongue around in her mouth to get rid of the taste.

"I know. Here, I'll get you a soda." He was joking and Elena knew it. She kicked wood chips at him and he laughed as he tried to dodge them. "You guys have fun."

Tyler retreated, joining back in on the chaos again. Or rather, joining back in on different chaos. Elena was feeling chaotic enough over with Matt by the tree. It was starting to feel as if his arm around her was the only thing balancing her.

"How do you feel?" Matt asked, and she angled her head towards him.

"Good," she answered. It was the most truthful response she had given him in a long time. With that thought, she felt guilty. She reached up and tenderly brushed her fingers through his hair.

Matt reached up and grabbed her hand, running his thumb over it. "You're so beautiful, Elena."

Matt leaned down and kissed her, pulling her closer and placing a hand over the back of her neck. It felt nice—it felt nice not to think, and Elena was enjoying every second of it. She didn't know how much time passed, but their kiss was broken with a yell from across the bonfire.

"Get a room!"

It was one of the guys on the football team, playfully giving Matt a hard time. Some of those around him laughed good-naturedly, and Matt laughed too, giving them the middle finger.

He turned back to Elena. "Want to ditch these fools for a little bit?"

She nodded, a smile still on her face from watching the interaction.

She and Matt made their way deeper into the woods and stopped when the music and voices dimmed. They sat down on a fallen log and she huddled close to him.

"It is nice to see you out, Elena. I've missed you lately," Matt admitted, leaning in to kiss her again.

Elena nodded into the kiss, and she was going to break it and apologize for not being herself. But the thought soon left her mind as things started heating up. Minutes passed, and Elena only pulled away once she felt Matt's hand slide up her shirt.

"Matt," she scolded, grabbing his wrist. "Not here."

He laughed. "You're right. Sorry."

She playfully socked his shoulder and was going to kiss him again when something caught her eye. It was an orange flicker and voices, not too far away. One of the voices was very familiar. She looked over Matt's shoulder, trying to focus on the few people sitting next to a tree nearby. Matt turned to follow her glance.

"Is that Jeremy?" she asked, standing up and nearly stumbling. Matt caught her waist, but she brushed him off.

She headed towards the group with determination, smelling weed in the air.

"Babe, you don't even know if that's him," Matt objected from behind, following.

"I heard his voice," Elena asserted, nearly tripping over a branch.

"Elena, stop—calm down for a second."

She turned to shoot him an accusatory glare. "You have ears, Matt—that's his voice."

It was mean, but she was already finding herself growing stressed about the situation. And frustrated. With Matt, with herself, and with what she was about to walk in on.

Without another word, she made her way to the group. Sure enough, it was Jeremy and Vickie, sharing a blunt.

"Are you serious?" Elena demanded as she watched Jeremy blow out smoke.

His eyes widened and his head shot up. He was clearly out of it. "What are you doing here?"

"Get up, Jeremy." Elena approached him and grabbed his upper arm, beginning to pull him from the ground. He yanked his arm away from her and fixed his jacket.

"Elena, come on." Matt's hand on her shoulder only increased her frustration.

She whipped around. "Look, I know you don't care about what Vickie does, but I sure as hell care about what Jeremy does."

A flash of hurt and then anger ran over Matt's face. "Vickie has nothing to do with—"

"What the hell, Matt?" Jeremy stood up and approached the two. "You told her?"

Matt's expression changed and despite drinking, it didn't take Elena long to figure the situation out. Why Tyler thought she knew Jeremy smoked weed…

Elena's lips parted and she stared at Matt in disbelief. "You knew?"

Matt seemed to be at a loss for words, and Elena heard Jeremy next to her. "Shit, man. I'm sorry, I thought you might have told her…"

Elena whipped towards Jeremy again, anger in her veins. "You think mom and dad would be proud of this?" she hissed lowly.

Jeremy looked shocked for a moment – they hardly ever addressed their parents – before anger became apparent on his face as well.

"You think they'd be proud of you?" Jeremy spat, "You don't do anything, Elena. At least I'm trying to live. You're acting like you've already died. In fact, what are you doing here?"

Elena stared at her brother, her chest suddenly tight and her vision blurry—and then she realized that she was about to cry. A silence had spread out over the group like thick fog. Matt and Vickie knew Jeremy had gone overboard; yet they recognized that it wasn't their place to say anything on this subject.

Without another word, Elena turned on her heel and made her way to the bonfire.

"Elena—wait. He didn't mean it," Matt said quietly from behind, grabbing her arm.

"Yeah, I did," she heard in the background from Jeremy.

She ripped her arm away without a glance back. "Don't talk to me. Don't find me."

She hated that her voice shook and felt extremely exposed. As she approached the light and people, she knew this had been a mistake. Partying like her life wasn't a wreck. She didn't belong here anymore; it wasn't her place.

She stumbled up to the first group that she found; the football team. They were decently nice, and they all knew her through Matt. "Do you guys know where Caroline is?"

"No, but it's nice to see your face for once, Elena," one of them said. "Want a drink?"

There was no hesitation. Her agreement was a slight at Matt and, in her head, a "screw you," to everyone. "Sure."

And with that, she downed a mixed drink. If only to mentally disappear. God knows that's what she wanted. If there was a red button that turned it all off, she wasn't sure if she would hesitate to press it. At least drinking herself into oblivion was an alternative.

A half-hour later, Matt found her despite her words. As soon as she saw him she began chugging another beer a random had placed in her hand. Nothing made sense.

"You're still drinking?" he asked incredulously.

Elena gave him a look and turned away. "You guys wanna do another round?" she asked the guys she was with. They had been seeing who could chug their beer the fastest, and Elena had been playing with them; in fact, she had even won one.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Matt stepped into their circle.

"Hey, Matt. Where have you been!" one of the football players, Joseph, yelled.

"Hey, no more drinks for her." Matt gestured at Elena.

Elena turned to him. "Yeah, where _have_ you been?"

There was a resounding "oooh" from the guys around them, a _you're in trouble_ recognition noise.

"I've been with Jeremy. You told me not to find you."

"Rolling a blunt with little Gilbert," a drunk voice said, laughing. The words almost sobered Elena up. Almost.

She whipped towards him and her world spun. "You smoke with Jeremy?"

"Dan, you're such an idiot," she heard one of the guys tell "Dan" for leaking the information. That, and Matt's expression, was the only confirmation she needed.

"Unbelievable," she said in a too-calm voice before storming past him.

She heard him follow after. "Where are you going? Elena, wait."

She ignored him, striding into the woods. He kept telling her to wait until finally, he grabbed her arm and spun her around. The motion nearly caused her to fall, and refocusing on him was difficult.

She swayed as she stared at him. "I just want to be left alone." Her voice was slow and quiet.

"Elena, I'm sorry. I can explain this all tomorrow. But you shouldn't be walking alone right now," Matt said, so level-headed that it only made Elena more frustrated.

She pulled her arm away. "How could you do this?" she demanded.

"Elena, it's just weed. I was going to tell you, but I know you're already going through a lot. Jeremy is going to smoke with or without me."

Angry dots –or drunk dots—filled her vision. And they had to be drunk dots, because the next thing she knew, Matt had both of his hands on her upper arms steadying her. She didn't remember him grabbing her, either.

"Elena, you've had too much to drink. Let's get you home."

"Let go of me, Matt... I need to be alone," she struggled to find the words.

It was true—she felt as if she were about to burst, or throw up, or something ungraceful, and she didn't want anyone to see.

"Elena, come on. Let's get you back to the bonfire at least. You can sober up there." He was looking at her with concerned eyes, gently tugging her. It only added to her frustration.

"Let go, Matt."

"I'm not letting you wander off, drunk and alone, into the woods," he asserted, and it became clear that he was losing his patience.

His grip on her arm tightened and she felt as if she were about to lose it. She yanked away and nearly fell, only to have him grab and steady her again.

"Matt, I—I know I'm drunk. Just _please_ leave me… alone right now."

She tugged her arm away but this time, he didn't let go. She began to struggle against him, her frustration spilling over. A few "Let go's" and "You're drunk's" were exchanged, and tension built and built until it was broken with a slap.

Matt did let go, holding his face in disbelief and staring at Elena.

They were quiet now, excluding heavy breathing, and the silence was even more deafening given the loud argument they previously engaged in.

"Matt—"

"You're something else, Elena." Matt shook his head, suddenly withdrawn.

Elena felt like a child who had done something terrible. "I'm sorry, I—I just wanted to—"

"Be alone. I get it. Well at this rate, you're going to be alone forever, so I wouldn't be too worried if I were you. Call me if you need me."

He turned and headed back. Elena stood and stared at his retreating form, and then down at her hand. What was she? What was she becoming? She was becoming a monster, if she wasn't one already. What was wrong with her?

With the decision that she really didn't want to exist, she took a long swig of the forgotten beer that was in her other hand. The world was spinning, and she just wanted it to spin out of the picture.

She jolted when she heard a slow clap. She looked around for the source of the sound before setting eyes on a black jacket figure.

"Bravo," Damon drawled, clapping. "You really stuck it to him. Extra points for the beer-chugging at the end."

Elena eyed him warily – or tried to. She turned, struggling to get her feet through the sticks and leaves on the ground.

"What… are you doing here?" she tried not to slur.

Damon sauntered towards her. "Just taking a stroll in the woods," he said, overly casual. "I just wanted to be _alone,_" he emphasized with character, mocking her.

Elena crossed her arms, swallowing. This wasn't good. She couldn't think straight—she could hardly even stand straight, and she had just downed another drink. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to care.

She rolled her eyes, remembering to respond. "Shut up."

Damon smiled. "You know, I'd bet my life that you don't even remember what I said in the first place."

Elena thought; she didn't remember, but it had been offensive. She did, however, recall that she had hit Matt—something she had never done in her life—and the look of disgust he had given her afterwards. And then, even after all that, he was still a nice enough guy to tell her to call if she needed anything. If she toyed with the idea before, now she knew it was true: she didn't deserve him.

"Why so glum?" Damon asked, shaking her from her thoughts. "Don't tell me it's that boy."

Elena hardly heard him, much less understood. The world was steadily fading now. With drunken determination, she strode past Damon in the direction she had been heading when she was leaving Matt.

She heard his footsteps behind her. "You know, I admire the avoidance of drinking and driving, but this is a little excessive. Don't you think, Elena?"

His words sent a pounding through her head and she scrunched her eyes, stopping to rest at a tree. She put a hand against the bark and leaned, placing her other hand on her pounding head. A small moan escaped her throat; she felt like hell. She hardly even knew where she was at this point.

"Leave me…" she started, but the world started spinning. Suddenly her legs gave out, but her body never felt the impact of the ground. She wasn't sure she could feel pain right now, anyways. She looked up; Damon had caught her from behind and was now helping her regain her posture.

"Alone, I know. There are synonyms for that word, you know. You need to brush up on your English skills."

Elena hardly heard him. She mumbled something incoherent, her eyes half-shut.

"Well. Someone's going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow."

And then everything went black.

**A/N: And so Elena's downward spiral begins. You guys will be happy to hear that I have the next three chapters written : ) **


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